The Beginning of an End
by Dreaming of a Broken Heart
Summary: "No, no, no! This can't be happening," I thought as I spotted Maxon coming over to us. When Maxon chose Kriss, I thought that I had lost all of him, but I didn't... Sitting comfortably at the table was a handsome stranger with bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair that was slightly curled at the ends. For a moment, I'm stunned. He looks so much like Maxon.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

 **Thanks for your patience! I re-edited Chapter 1, after receiving tips, so I hope that you like this. All rights belong to Kiera Cass. P.S. This chapter is mainly from The One, so there is no plagiarism intended. This is more like a background/prologue chapter than an actual one. The next chapter will be my own with only bits of The One in it. Thank You! All rights belong to Kiera Cass.**

Maxon had promised me that he would me in my room tonight, so where was he? I remembered our conversation from earlier…

"America, wait for me tonight. I want to give you something."

"I have something to give you too, bring some sort of protection." I whispered back to him.

"For what?" he whispered back, looking confused.

I mentally berate myself and raise my eyebrows a couple of times before he gets the hint.

"Really?" he asks.

"Yes."

"I'll see you tonight then," he concluded before he was needed somewhere else.

He was never late, but this time he was. Almost 30 minutes later than his expected arrival time, he finally showed up with two packages in his hand.

"Hi," he said. He seemed a bit stunned like his words had failed him.

"Hi, do you want to come in?" I asked before our staring got awkward.

He questioned me about my family and approached the delicate subject of my father's death.

"I glad I at least got to meet him. I can see bits of him in you, you know," Maxon stated.

"Really?"

"Absolutely," he led me to my bed after shifting the packages to one hand and sat down next to me. "You have his sense of humor and your tenacity, he and you both wouldn't let me off the hook either. It's okay to be sad, but just know that the best of him is still around," he concluded.

"Thanks," I snuggle closer into him and he places an arm around me.

"It's true."

"I know," changing the subject before I became a sobbing mess was currently my number one priority.

"What's that?" I questioned nodding my head in the direction of his parcels.

"Oh," he paused, thinking of what to say,"These are for you, a late Christmas present." Holding up a thick envelope stuffed with papers, "I can't believe that I'm giving you these to keep, but you have to wait until I leave to look at it."

He hand me a badly wrapped present, and I tried not to laugh at the crooked seams of the paper.

"Sorry the wrapping is terrible," he apologizes.

"It's fine."

Inside the wrapping, I find a picture frame containing an image of a beautiful house. I was confused, why did he give me a picture of a house? As if he could sense my confusion, he quickly explained that the house was the present, not the picture.

Patient as ever, Maxon gave me the explanation he thought I already understood. "You told me to send everyone home. I did. I had to keep one other girl—those are the rules—but . . . you said that if I could prove I loved you . . ."

". . . It's me?"

"Of course it's you."

I was speechless. I laughed in shock and started giving him kisses and giggling between each one. Maxon, so pleased with the affection, took every kiss and laughed along with me.

"We're getting married?" I yelled, kissing him again.

"Yes, we're getting married." He chuckled and let me attack him in my excitement. I realized then that I was in his lap. I didn't remember getting there.

I kissed him on and on . . . and somewhere in there the laughing stopped. After a while, the smiling dwindled. The kisses turned from playful to something much deeper. When I pulled away and looked into his eyes, they were intense, focused.

Maxon held me close, and I could feel his heart racing against my chest. Guided by a deep hunger for him, I pushed his suit coat down his back, and he helped me as best as he could while holding on to me. I let my shoes fall to the floor, thudding a little song on their way down. I felt Maxon's legs shift underneath me as he slipped his off as well.

Without breaking our kiss, he lifted me, crawling deeper onto the bed and laying me down gently somewhere near the middle. His lips traveled down my neck as I loosened his tie, throwing it somewhere near our shoes.

"You're breaking a lot of rules, Miss Singer."

"You're the prince. You can just pardon me."

He chuckled darkly, his lips at my throat, my ear, my cheek. I untucked his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. He helped with the last few, sitting up to toss it aside. The last time I'd seen Maxon without his shirt on, I didn't get to really appreciate it because of the circumstance. But now . . .

I ran my fingers lightly down his stomach, admiring how strong he was. When my hand got to his belt, I gripped it and pulled him back down. He came willingly, dragging a hand up my leg, resting it comfortably on my thigh underneath the layers of my dress.

I was going crazy, wanting so much more of him, aching to know if he'd let me have it. Without even thinking, I reached around and dug my fingers into his back.

Immediately, he stopped kissing me, pulling back to look at me.

"What?" I whispered, terrified to break this moment.

"Does it . . . does it repulse you?" he asked nervously.

"What do you mean?"

"My back."

I ran a hand down his cheek, staring directly into his eyes, wanting to leave him with no doubt about how I felt.

"Maxon, some of those marks are on your back so they wouldn't be on mine, and I love you for them."

He stopped breathing for a second. "What did you say?"

I smiled. "I love you."

"One more time, please? I just—"

I took his face in both of my hands. "Maxon Schreave, I love you. I love you."

"And I love you, America Singer. With all that I am, I love you."

He kissed me again, and I let my hands move to his back, and this time he didn't pause. He moved his hands beneath me, and I felt his fingers playing with the back of my dress.

"How many damn buttons does this thing have?" he complained.

"I know! It's—"

Maxon sat up, placing his hands along the bust line of my dress. With one firm pull, he ripped my dress down the front, exposing the slip underneath.

There was a charged silence as Maxon took that in. Slowly, his eyes returned to mine. Without breaking that contact, I sat up, sliding the sleeves of my dress down my back. It took a little bit of work to get it all off; and, by the end of it, Maxon and I were kneeling on my bed, my hardly covered chest pressed to his, kissing slowly.

"Maxon?"

"Yes?"

"I want you to be my first," I said.

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to hurt you…" he rambles.

"Maxon, I'm sure, did you bring the condom?"

"Yeah, just tell me if you want me to stop," he says.

In reply, I kiss him back and begin to undress his body. When I reach his pants, I slow down, suddenly I feel shy when I see the tent in his pants. Be brave America, I tell myself. I pull down his zipper and I hear him gasp.

"Are you okay?" I ask him.

"Yeah, keep going. It's just different," he replies back.

I slowly peel off his pants and boxers. I stop breathing when I see his impressive manhood standing at attention. Something within me tingles and I clench my thighs together in a vain attempt to soothe it. Maxon sits up and pulls on a condom before finding reassurance that I still want this. I feel him insert a finger into my wet core and slowly push it in and out before adding another. Now pumping 2 fingers into me, he inserts a third that leaves me feeling full and stretched to the point of almost being uncomfortable. After pushing his finger in me for a minute or so, I slowly feel myself adjusting to the welcome intrusion. He now takes his manhood in his hand and place it at the entrance of my vagina. Maxon slowly pushes himself into me and I bite back a scream when he rips through my barrier. He immediately slows and waits for me to adjust before continuing. When he is completely in me, I let a few tears of pain fall from feeling so stretched. Maxon wipes those tears away and kisses me gently, making me forget about the pain.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?" he questions.

"I'm fine, just wait for me to get used to it." I replied back.

Maxon pulled out slowly and thrust in again, the sensation was delightfully strange, and I wanted to experience it again. I thrust my hips in an attempt to gain the delicious friction against my core as Maxon slowly pulled in and out of me. I moaned Maxon's name just as he began to thrust a bit harder into me. Moving my hips after figuring out the rhythm, Maxon sped up, his breaths became labored and my name on his tongue became mumbled. Our bodies merging into one, the pleasure was incredible and I couldn't stop the moans and screams of euphoria coming from my mouth. He kissed me passionately and began thrusting even harder. The pressure built and I felt the beginnings of my orgasm and I could see it in Maxon's face that he too was close. I come down from my high first and after a few more thrusts he comes down too. I laid my head on his chest, slick with sweat and listened to the beating of his heart. He was still buried inside me, but that didn't matter. I gave him all that I had, and he accepted it. His face was buried in my hair, and I could feel him smile in content.

"I love you," he whispers to me.

When he pulled his erection out of me and rolled off the condom, I spotted what I thought was a tear, but in my hazy state, I was too tired to examine the condom any further. After disposing the condom, he held me and we both slipped into a peaceful sleep.

We wake to the sound of a crash in the hall, Maxon bolts straight up looking terrified. "It's not him," I whispered. "It's probably one of the girls stumbling to her room, or a maid cleaning something. It's okay."

He finally released a breath I didn't see he was holding and fell back onto the bed. He draped an arm over his eyes, frustrated or exhausted or maybe both. "I want to let down all the walls with you America, especially after last night, but I can't," he says-almost despairingly. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

"Are you sore after last night? I didn't hurt you did I?" he inquires.

"I am a bit sore, but no, you didn't hurt me too much," I reply. "It was painful, but I don't regret anything. I'm glad that you were my first."

"I don't regret anything either, but I'm sorry. I should've been gentler," Maxon replies.

"Other than that, how are you feeling, my Dear?"

"I mainly feel like punching you for calling me, my Dear," I reply as I poke his abs.

Laughing, he crawled over to me and rattled off a variety of pet names for me, and started to glide his hands across my body. While he was doing that, I asked what I was supposed to call him; his answer to that? 'Your Royal Husbandness' it's required by law, he replies back.

Maxon's clever hands find a delicate spot, and I shy away just as he lunges for me, making me shriek in laughter. A guard burst through the door with his gun drawn. This time I scream in terror, as I duck under the covers to protect my modesty. I glanced up to see that the stricken guard was Aspen. My face flamed in humiliation, Aspen couldn't even string together a sentence because of the shock at seeing his future ruler with his ex-lover. My trance was broken by Maxon's deep laugh, and his smug words,"I assure you Ledger, she's perfectly safe."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Aspen bowed and left with his head hanging as he closed the door. I collapsed onto my pillow, moaning. I would never live that down. Maxon came to give me a hug. "Don't be so embarrassed, it's bound to happen in the future too."

It's so humiliating," I cried.

"To be caught in bed with me?" The pain in his voice was clear.

"No! It's just… I wanted it to be a private moment," I sat up and toyed with a corner of a blanket.

"I'm sorry," his voice sincere.

Maxon left to get ready for the Choosing Ceremony, and Aspen stepped in to talk. At the worst possible time, Maxon rounded a corner with Kriss and saw me with my body pressed against Aspen's. Looking into Maxon's shocked eyes, I mentally tried to tell him that this wasn't what it looked like. He dismissed Kriss, and sent Aspen away. Maxon questioned me and finally snapped. I burst into sobs, "Maxon, please. I'm sorry; it's not what what it looked like. I swear. I love you!"

He sauntered up to me, his eyes dead, and before leaving my room, he said, "Of all the likes you've told me, that's the one I resent the most."

I broke down, "No, no, no! This can't be happening!" I thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

 **Hi, sorry its been so long since I last updated. 8 hours of dance and private lessons a week make it hard for me to find time to write, but I try to update as soon as I can. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Thanks to Sweetwaterspice for betaing my story, couldn't have done it without you. All rights belong to Kiera Cass.**

Chapter 2

 **America's POV**

When Maxon chose Kriss, I thought I had lost all of him, but a month later, I realized something…

I'm going to die, was the only thought in my head, for I was heaving the contents of my stomach into the toilet while holding it. "May, don't come in," I call out when I heard her twisting the doorknob.

"America, are you okay?" she whispers as she comes in anyways.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think it was something I ate," I replied back. I flush the toilet and stand up shakily. Heading over to the sink to rinse my mouth, I can feel May's eyes trained on me.

"Ok," I can see that she doesn't believe me, but she knows better than to press.

"Girls, come and hurry! Your breakfast is getting cold!" my mom calls us down.

Ever since I came back from the Selection, we've been able to live a better life. A better life means a happy May and a happy Gerard. A happy May and Gerard usually means a happy me, but this wasn't the case today.

"May…"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell mom that I was throwing up ok?" I plead. I felt guilty, but I needed her to not tell anyone. I hated myself for making my innocent sister keep a secret, but I was desperate.

"Fine," she promises reluctantly.

We got dressed quickly and make our way into the kitchen.

Sitting comfortably at the table was a handsome stranger with bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair that was slightly curled at the ends. For a moment, I stand at the bottom of the stairs in shock. He looks so much like Maxon; what's with all the cute people having similar face structures? I wondered.

I'm snapped back into reality when May snaps her fingers at me, and everyone is looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I ask. My face starts to flame from embarrassment. I can't believe I'm comparing a stranger to my ex-lover. I try in vain to hide my blush, and I glance away quickly before he catches me staring at him.

My mom facepalms and her cheeks are burning, that is NOT a good sign.

"Would you introduce yourself to Prince Connor of Italy?" she asks through clenched teeth.

"Oh! Hello, my name is America. Nice to meet you, Your Majesty," I stutter, but the curtsy that is programmed into my body comes out flawlessly. I slide gracefully out of my curtsy, that's one thing that proves my time at the palace wasn't a complete waste of time.

"Prince Connor of Italy," he replies with a slight accent and tries to bite back a smile. "I'm Nicoletta's brother, she's told me about you, and how much she wished you had won the Selection.

My cheeks flush and I try desperately to conceal them. Apparently, I didn't just disappoint myself, I also disappointed one of my best friends from the competition.

"I have a proposition for you tonight that I would like to discuss with you over dinner at a restaurant tonight. Would that be okay?" he asks.

I'm in shock, then indignant thoughts rush into my brain. Who does he think he is to ask me to dinner when I just met him? Then I remember, he's a prince, and they get what they want. I am curious to as what he wants, so I plan on accepting. My own mother beats me to accepting his offer.

"Of course, she can." my mother exclaims while giving me a "don't let me down look".

"Well, I guess that's settled then, I'll see you at 5:00pm," before he smiles and leaves.

"I don't get a choice in the matter do I?" I say to no one in particular.

"Nope," May says cheerfully. Oh May, I really hope that you don't think that I'm going to marry him after just knowing him for a day, do you? I think that since I'm going out to dinner, she gets to dress me up. She knows how rare the occasions are, so she cherishes every single one of them.

She grabs me by the hand after cleaning the dishes and drags me up to our room.

"So… do you think he's cute?" begins May.

She shuts the door and begins firing off questions at me. How am I supposed to answer this question? If I say yes, she will be all over me, if I say no, she'll ask me why and even more questions will be shot at me, so I try to evade the question with some light humor.

"Yes, no, maybe so?" I answer back. I try to dodge the question, but May has her sights set on receiving this answer.

"Hey! It's a yes or no question!"

"Then no," I reply jokingly before saying,"Yes" I sigh and blow my hair out of my face. Why are there so many things that remind me of my time with Maxon? Even blue rocks bring back memories of him. Now a stranger who looks like him? My world is in chaos, the only stable thing left is May, but she doesn't completely understand what it's like to have your heart shatter into microscopic pieces.

"I knew it! Will you marry him America?" she asks, more serious now.

"I don't know, May, my heart is still hurting." I honestly reply. "And I don't know him that well yet."

"I bet that Nicoletta be ecstatic if you became her sister-in-law." May quips back.

"Yeah, I know," I say halfheartedly. "How much did she discuss with Prince Connor while I was still upstairs?" I wondered. Did she tell him about what led Maxon to choose Kriss? Oh God, I really hope not.

"Do you know what you're going to wear on your date with Connor yet?" May asks, changing the topic.

"No," I sigh, "Why do I even have to go?"

The Selection just ended not so long ago, and May is already trying to set up dates for me. Can a broken heart really heal that fast? I know that Prince Connor is handsome, but he resembles Maxon so much.

"Well, we need to find something, and I call doing your hair and makeup!" she commands.

In the closet, we find several Selection dresses that Lucy, Anne, and Mary made me take home. "Ohh, how about this one?" May asks holding up a gorgeous light lavender dress with cap sleeves and an empire waist.

"Maybe," I reply back, staring at a creamy peach dress.

May follows my eyes and spots the dress, it was the one I wore to my 2nd date with Maxon. Thinking about it made my heart pound and my head ache.

"May, I want to wear this one," I say, gesturing to the one shouldered peach, ruffled dress.

"Are you sure?" she asks tentatively, for she knows the stories behind each dress.

"Yeah, it will show that I'm so over him, and I've moved on," I explain.

Just wearing the dress made me want to cry, knew I knew I had to stay strong. The paparazzi will be all over Connor and I tonight, for this is my first outside appearance since the Selection, so May made sure all eyes were on me.

A dramatic style change to my usual simple style, I was wearing the dress with a gold necklace, jewel encrusted bangles, and diamond earrings.

I felt ready to conquer the world with my bold smokey eye, and dark lipstick showing that I am stronger than ever before.

Prince Connor shows up at our door at 5:00 sharp with an armored limo and two bodyguards.

I spot the sleek black limo and the tinted windows not providing any insight as to what the limo contained. This was a bit overboard, I don't need a fancy car. He should know that he doesn't need to impress me.

Connor is wearing a crisp white dress shirt, black sports jacket, and a dark grey tie. His green eyes glimmer with sparks of excitement and his lips are pulled up into a slight smile. He looks cool, calm, and collected just as a prince should. I nervously adjust my dress and look down at the floor to prevent being caught staring again. My head is spinning from the amount of pent up nerves and from the close proximity of a hot human prince.

"Ready, Miss. Singer?" he questions. He stretches his hand out to me.

"Yes," I reply quietly as I demurely placed my hand in his outstretched one. I show no signs of nervousness from earlier. Maybe all that time at the palace wasn't a waste.

Walking to the limo with my hand grasped in a prince's while the paparazzi snapped away made me feel like a princess. Stifling a gasp as I felt a jolt run through me when I brushed my fingertips against his before grasping his hand. The only other person who I had that spark with was with Maxon and even that took time, but with Prince Connor, it was an immediate shock. The only other times I've truly felt like a princess were when Maxon would kiss me and tell me that he loved me, but with Connor, all he needed to do was hold my hand? I find myself yearning for Maxon, and if this is the best I can get, I'll take it. I can just pretend that Connor is Maxon.

Shaking my head in frustration, I tell myself, Maxon choose Kriss, get over it. He's not yours anymore.

I felt so confused, and when we reached the limo, a guard opened the door for us, and Connor smiled an award winning smile at the paparazzi before climbing in himself. Once the door was closed, Connor slumped down in his seat and sighed in relief.

"It's so exhausting!" he exclaims, running his hand through his hair.

"You didn't seem exhausted," I reply.

"I know, I've been trained to never look exhausted, only to feel it," he justifies to me.

I glance over at him, and he has his hands in his hair. He runs his fingers through it, messing up the sleek look he had before. Maxon did that too, I think to myself. I find myself staring at his face, picking out the features that resemble Maxon's. His eyes, although a different color, remind me of Maxon's, and his lips, they look so much like my old lover's- especially when he smiles that half smile.

As if he could read my mind, he turns around and pulls his lips up slowly to reveal the smile I had been daydreaming about. He smirks, and I quickly glance down. I was nervous and a bit embarrassed to being caught checking him out.

"So, Lady America, I hope you're a fan of seafood."

"Seafood? I love seafood!" I declare excitedly.

"Then you'll love this place."

The limo came to a stop as the restaurant, King of the Ocean, comes into view. Walking in, we are immediately ushered to a private dining room. Before we are escorted away, I was able to take in the dimly lit restaurant with soft, soothing music playing in the background. A high, arched, ceiling adorned with glass chandeliers hung above the wooden tables. It was a high-end, classy, and sleek place.

Connor and I are lead to a secluded room with huge, polished wooden doors. The host opens the doors and I step in. The feel of this room is slightly less energetic, but has a more romantic feel to it. The crystal chandelier hangs above an espresso wood table with a crisp, white tablecloth covering it. The table holds three candles of various heights, a wine glass, a champagne flute, a bowl placed on a china plate, and silverware to the right of the plate setting for each person. He pulls out my chair before seating himself across from me.

"Lady America," Connor begins, but I cut him off.

"Just America, no lady," I correct him for the sake of my sanity. I just can't stand it when people call me Lady or some other fancy title.

"Okay, America," he obliges, "Well, you look beautiful tonight, the dress is gorgeous."

"Thank you," I reply back just as our appetizer is served.

Fried shrimp skewers with parmesan cheese and a tangy dipping sauce. The jumbo shrimps were still slightly crackling from the oil was served to us on a delicate china plate.

The moment the plate lands on the table, I glance at Connor to check that he wasn't going to reach for one, I quickly, but delicately, reach for a skewer of shrimp. Once it was on my place, I slowly slide the shrimp off and bite into it.

I moaned in pleasure as Connor tried and failed to hide his laughter.

"What?" I mocked him jokingly, for I already knew why.

"You are just too funny, there's nobody at court quite like you. All the girls are stuck up and only want me for my crown even though Nicoletta is the to-be ruler," he answers back a bit wistfully.

"Ohh," was the only reply I could come up with.

Connor took a bite of his shrimp and swallowed before saying, "America, I have a proposition for you…"

 **Please tell me what you think, and the link for a picture of America's dress is included below. Thanks for reading!**

America's Dress: _


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! Thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. A special thanks to my beta, sweetwaterspice. All rights belong to Kiera Cass.**

 **Reviews:**

 **supergirls2008: Thanks for reading!**

 **: The baby might or might not play into the story depending on how I decide to structure the story, and thanks for your feed back!**

 **Selectionobsessed: I'm trying to update as soon as I can, but I'm so busy this time of year. When school is out I hope to update more. Thanks for reviewing!**

 **Lady Olivia Mirza: I just looked online for Italian names and Connor came up, so I thought it was a nice name to use in the story. As for Maxon, he was mad and not thinking when he saw America with Aspen. He thought she was lying to him about her feelings when he saw them together.**

 **kkhardenstein: I'm not sure if it's going to be a Maxerica fic or not, there will come a point where America will have to choose, and whoever she doesn't pick, I'll probably do an outtake on if she chose the other person. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Chapter 3

"Would you be interested in becoming an ambassador for Illea regarding matters concerning Italy?" He asks. "I mean, Nicoletta would love to see you more often since you didn't win the Selection, and she specifically requested you as her first choice. King Clarkson didn't have much say in the matter because this was the only way Italy would become Illea's ally, so he reluctantly agreed."

I just stare at him in shock, my brain still processing what he just said. Me, an ambassador? It was a completely ridiculous idea, bordering on insanity. I'll probably lose the allies Illea has gained because of my unfiltered mouth. When I finally finish processing the given information, my only reply was an abrupt, "No."

"What?!" Connor splutters, apparently my response was not the one he was expecting.

I was astounded, my heart still longed for Maxon. Seeing him would be a stab in the heart, a reminder of what I could have had.

"What else did you expect?!" I spit back at him. "That I'll happily say yes, and go to see my ex-boyfriend in his palace with his fiancée?"

"Yeah, something like that," he blatantly tells me and I gasp. How could he be so ignorant?

Connor continues, "But I promise you, you would mainly be in Italy." He obviously noticed my shock at his suggestion and tries to sweeten the proposition. "You wouldn't have to see Maxon except for certain meetings regarding the countries you are responsible for." He replies, wearing a sheepish look on his face. "But I guess I was naive to think that you were over him."

I wave my hand dismissively, and say, "No. It's fine. I was in shock, let me think about this over dinner, and I'll get back to you tomorrow. Is that okay?"

"Yes, thank you," Connor sighs in relief that I am even considering this. "Please think about it carefully, and don't forget to factor Nicoletta in too. She just might demand you to come and take the position." His words, more a plea, than asking for a favor.

"Ok," I say.

The rest of the evening went smoothly without any more shocking news. I was so relieved, I didn't think I could handle anything else without my dinner making a reappearance. He quizzed me on my interests, family, and other unimportant things, and I asked him the same. When dessert rolled around, Connor ordered a large piece of tiramisu to share and a scoop of vanilla ice cream for each of us.

"Have you ever had tiramisu before?" Connor questions.

"No."

"Seriously? You're missing out on something great, so tonight, you will have your first bite of tiramisu," he declares.

Our server is back with a gigantic piece of tiramisu with two small bowls of ice cream.

"You can have the first bite, I promise once you eat it, you'll be addicted," he states. He seems so confident in his abilities to choose a dessert I like. This is a side I haven't seen of Maxon, but Connor seems so relaxed around me on our date. I like him like this, it's as if we were two regular teenagers on a first date. This was something I never had with Maxon. It was adorable the way his chest puffs out as he states his opinion. Confident, but not cocky; proud, but not overbearing; and encouraging, but not controlling. It was so cute to see him express his love for his country's dessert.

Connor explains how to use one of the dessert spoons to scoop out a piece of rich chocolate, and creamy mascarpone cheese sandwiched between decadent chocolate and coffee flavored ladyfingers. I could smell the tantalizing aroma of the tiramisu waft to my nose. Connor scoops up a piece and feeds it to me as I close my eyes and moan in delight when the flavor hits my tongue.

"This is the best dessert I've had, and from my experience during the Selection, this is an amazing accomplishment," I say after three more scoops of the confection I feed to myself.

I look down and see that I've downed almost half of the tiramisu! Connor is doubled over in laughter and has nearly tipped his glass of water. Once he has managed to stop laughing, he himself takes a bite of the tiramisu and for some odd reason, his face is scrunched up.

"What's wrong?" I question, trying to guess why. The dessert was pure perfection, so it couldn't be the tiramisu. Right?

"This tiramisu is terrible!" he admits.

"Terrible? Do your taste buds even work? That tiramisu," I say, pointing with my spoon, "was clearly delicious," I reply in disbelief. "How was it even bad?"

"First off, the ladyfingers were too soggy; second, the mascarpone cheese is not fresh; and third, the chocolate flavor is too overpowering, you can't even taste the coffee," he rants.

"When, and if you decide to go to Italy, I promise I'll give you a taste of real tiramisu," he vows.

"Ok. So, may I eat the rest of it now?" I ask tentatively.

"Yes, yes! Eat it all!" He practically shoves the plate at me in his haste to remove the offending dessert from his sight. I try as gracefully as I can to devour the rest of the cake, but I'm nearly positive I don't look graceful when I swallow the rest of the cake in less than three minutes.

* * *

He snaps his fingers and like magic, a waiter appears and hands him a check placed on a tray. It was similar to one of those movies that May is addicted to. We walk out out together and I glance back, trying to take the ambience of the restaurant in again, in an attempt to store it up in my memories. The paparazzi once again bombards us, but the bodyguards quickly clear a path to the limo, and we hurry into the car.

During the drive home, I go over Connor's proposition. It was a favorable career, but I didn't feel all that confident in my abilities. I bet Nicoletta has faith in me; why else would she select me for the position? I wouldn't want to disappoint her by declining the job, but I might disappoint her more if I wasn't competent. The car jerks to a stop. Prince Connor climbs out smoothly and offers me a hand.

"Think about it okay?" He says gently as I climb out of the car. "Here's my number, call me when you have an answer."

"I will. I'll call you back tomorrow," I smile shyly back at him and retract my hand from his, only to have him place it on my back.

Stepping out onto my driveway, I clench the scrap of paper that contains Connor's number. He walks me to my door and kisses my hand in a bid farewell; butterflies explode in my stomach and I feel like a love-struck little kid once again. I turn and face the door, a bit dazed, but I managed to choke out a "thank you," before unlocking the door. He tells me good-bye and walks back to his limo while I enter my house.

Collapsing on my couch after turning on the lights, I glance up at the clock and see that it was already 9:00; we were gone for almost 4 hours? Time goes by so fast.

Walking up the stairs, I wonder about my feelings towards Connor. I look down and see that his phone number is still tightly clenched in my fist.

As I near my room, I could see that the lights were still on which was strange because I could have sworn that I turned my lights off when I left.

I cautiously open the door and to my surprise, May was lounging in my bed.

"Hi! You're back; how did it go?" She pelts the questions at me.

"It went great, he took me to a seafood restaurant that had some amazing tiramisu, but he didn't like it." I give her an overview of the dinner and when I reach the proposition part, she sits up and focuses on each word that comes out of my mouth.

"He asked me to become an ambassador for Illea with Italy since the alliance has just newly formed in an act of desperation. King Clarkson wanted, no needed it, but the King and Queen of Italy were hesitant, so Nicoletta demanded me, ME for an ambassador since Maxon chose Kriss," I say.

"Wait, what?" May splutters, unable to comprehend what I just said.

That piece of information must be pretty surprising if my golden-tongued sister has no word to say.

"He wants me to become an ambassador for Illea," I repeat in hopes of her understanding it.

"He wants you to become an ambassador for Illea," She asks, looking at me in disappointment. Sighing, she glances down with downcast eyes, "That's the proposition?!"

"Yeah," I murmur.

I look down at the floor. Personally, it wasn't what I figured my career would be, but it was favorable in the business sense. I feel May's eyes trained on me. When I look up, I am immediately met with a pair of blue eyes that pierce into my soul.

May sighs, clearly disappointed. "I was hoping he'd ask you to marry him instead. But… since he didn't, you should do it, take the job," May urges me. "We'll be fine, don't worry."

As usual, May could read me like no else.

"But-." May cuts me off with a, "No, buts, just take the opportunity."

I give her a small smile. "I'll think about it, okay? And I'll tell you what I've decided tomorrow," I negotiate, trying desperately to change the topic.

"Fine," May pouts and sulks on her way out of my room.

Once the door is shut, I crash on my bed. My mind starts to wander; does Maxon still love me? If he did, why did he choose Kriss? Should I accept the position? Question after question bombards my brain as I lay there.

An hour passes by, and my brain is spinning from all those questions. I finally stand up and race to the bathroom as I pray that May is asleep. Once again, I empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet. As I reach for the mouthwash once I rise, my eyes catch on a mini-calendar sticking out of my toiletry bag. I rinse quickly and wipe my mouth dry. Worst case scenarios run through my head. Reaching for the calendar, I note that I was over a week late; my periods have always arrived on time, but never late. I sink down on the tile floor as the reason hits me. It was ludicrous. Maxon and I had used protection. There was only one way to be sure. I stand up and walk shakily to my room. Picking up my phone, I dialed Kenna, hoping she wasn't yet asleep.

"Hello?" Kenna's voice drifts over the phone.

"Hey, it's America," my voice wobbles as I speak. I was so scared; what would I do if Kenna refused?

"What's wrong?" I could hear the concern in my sister's voice.

"I have a favor to ask you. Can you bring me some a pregnancy test?" I breathe out in a rush. I hoped Kenna could understand me, so I wouldn't have to repeat myself. There was a moment of pure terror as the line went silent.

"Oh, America," she sighs, "How did this happen?"

Holding back sobs, I spill everything to my sister. Not saying anything until I finish, she waits for me to calm down before speaking.

"Hold on, I'll be over in fifteen minutes," I hear Kenna's voice, then nothing as the line goes dead.

* * *

Fifteen minutes were torturous as I pace back and forth in the living room, waiting for Kenna to show up.

She arrives with a bag filled with small rectangular boxes and a box of tea bags.

"Here," she shoves three of the boxes into my hand.

I look down in shock and confusion.

"Do I need all three?!" I question.

"No, it's just used to confirm everything," she answers back. "You know how to use it, right?"

Well, no! But still in shock, I just nod. Kenna takes my face in her hands and says, "No matter what, we'll support you. It's going to be fine." Fine?! I'm going to end up in prison! I thought to myself. How could Kenna be so calm?!

Finally finding my voice again, I go to the bathroom and come back out once I'm done.

"Now, we wait," my voice sounds stronger than I actually feel. I sink down into the couch as I try and process everything. I am so glad mom went to sleep earlier today since she has meetings earlier tomorrow first thing in the morning. I was relieved and surprised Mom hadn't stayed up to question interrogate me about my date. She was the one who wanted me to go!

I was petrified. The wait was torturous as I thought about what would happen if I was pregnant. Knowing King Clarkson, he would have me sentenced to some form of punishment or make me get rid of it. Kenna wraps an arm around me and whispers that it's time. In a hazy state, I walk to the bathroom and flip over the tests. All three are positive. The room starts spinning and the last thing I see before I am dragged down into darkness is Kenna's distressed face before I faint.

* * *

Waking up to soft sunlight filtering in, I sit up and everything from last night slams into me like a boulder. I double over and dash to the bathroom to repeat what happened in the four previous mornings. After making myself presentable, I walk downstairs and see Kenna making breakfast for me.

"Hey, good morning," I say.

"Sit and eat, you're going to be eating for two," Kenna orders.

She places a loaded plate in front of me and commands me to start eating.

"I don't think I can finish that," I eye the plate warily.

"Just eat, you'll be surprised," she replies back smoothly.

Sure enough, I manage to consume the whole plate and the tea Kenna places in front of me to help with morning sickness.

"What are you going to do about the baby?" Kenna asks, clearly worried for me. "You can't hide it from Prince Maxon after you start showing."

"He doesn't need to know," was my short reply. I flick my hand dismissively.

"What do you mean, he doesn't need to know? Do you want your baby to grow up without a father? What if the baby looks like him? People will start to suspect, and Maxon isn't so dumb that you can say it isn't his." Kenna starts pacing back and forth, obviously agitated.

"This is my baby, so I get to choose to keep him or her! Not Maxon or King Clarkson!" I yell in frustration. No one will take my baby away from me and I will do whatever I have to do to keep my child safe.

"It's also Maxon's, and unless Maxon impregnated Kriss before you, the baby would be his first-born heir," Kenna tries to reason with me, but I refuse to listen.

Even though I just found out I was having Maxon's baby, I already feel a connection to it. The baby was created out of love, and even if Maxon doesn't want the baby, I do.

Walking around the room, I manage to calm back down. Kenna moves onto another topic I don't feel like discussing, but I know I should.

"So… May told me about your proposition," Kenna starts.

"Yeah," I glance down listlessly at my empty cup.

"You should do it. It's a great opportunity, and you get to travel," she says.

"Are you crazy, Kenna?! I'm pregnant! How could I possibly think about taking that job now? And besides, I just got back home from the Selection…I'm not ready to leave again so soon."

"You're supposed to leave the house and socialize with potential suitors. There's a line around the block for your hand," Kenna reminds me.

"Suitors?" I look at Kenna like she's grown two heads. My eyes widen. "I'm pregnant!" I sigh, exasperated at my older sister.

"Do you know anyone who is an OB-GYN and won't ask questions?" I ask hesitantly hoping Kenna will forgive my current irritable state. "I want to make sure my baby is okay." Although the tests are supposed to be accurate, they aren't fool-proof. I wanted a definite answer before I make plans on how to keep this from Maxon.

"Yes, I do. You can't tell them who the real father is. People will do anything to get to the royal family. If people knew, you would be their target since you're the most vulnerable person," Kenna says, and makes me promise not to trust anyone outside of our family.

"Kenna, don't tell anyone our family I'm pregnant either. Okay?" I plead. "I can't have Maxon or anyone knowing because Maxon would force me to go back to the palace." Watching him and Kriss be affectionate would kill me. If Mom knew, she would be so disappointed in me, and May, well, she would be ecstatic.

"Ok." I could see that she was unhappy, but Kenna knew how to keep a secret.

* * *

"I have to go now," Kenna told me after she had finished cleaning the kitchen. "If you need anything, just call me."

"I'll be fine. Bye," Kenna left and shut the door behind her.

I walk up to my room and see Connor's phone number on my nightstand. I knew what my choice was now…

Picking up the phone, I dialed his number. It rang twice before he answered.

"Hello?" a deep, husky voice answered.

"Hello, Your Highness, it's Lady America, and I've come to a decision." I take a deep breath and say, "I…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: To all you readers...Thank you for your patience while I got my life back together, so I could post again.**

 **Special thanks to my beta, Sweetwaterspice, for all the support and ideas.**

 **All Rights Belong to Kiera Cass**

* * *

Chapter 4

"I accept my position as an ambassador, so you may notify Maxon," I tell Connor.

"Really?" Connor sounds overjoyed and relieved at my statement. "I can't tell you how much this means to Nicoletta. She threatened to leave me in Illea until you agreed." Holding back a laugh, I let Connor continue rambling. "As for Maxon and King Clarkson, I'll call to notify them that you will be the new ambassador."

"What will I need to bring?" I ask. This was all so new to me, I didn't know what was appropriate to pack.

"Uhh...Umm..I'm not really sure," he mumbled, not quite sure how to answer. I could feel his embarrassment radiating through the phone. "I think you might need some formal dresses since you'll be attending many social functions and meetings, I guess." He pauses to think before quickly adding, "And maybe, some regular outfits too. Enough to wear until the maids are able to put together a new wardrobe for you, that is."

I try to hide my snicker, for it was so obvious that he was out of his element. Then again, what do boys know about a girl's wardrobe? At least he tried...and gave me a basic idea of what I should bring.

"Wait! When do we leave?" I question. I was so confused. Wouldn't we leave in a couple of weeks?

A slight pause is accompanied by the rustling of papers as he checks the schedule. "Well, we'll leave in 2 days for the palace to sign papers, and we will also be staying there for 3 days. After everything is sorted out at the palace, we will head off to Italy in a private plane."

I nearly vomit at the thought of going back to the palace-where Maxon is located- for 3 days. How long does it take to scribble my name down onto pieces of paper? I only hope he isn't around very much. He knows me well enough to know that something is off. Deciding that I will be fine, or at least pretending to be, I refrain from telling Connor about my issues. I quickly grab my schedule and jot down the itinerary while my hands shake uncontrollably. My stomach twists into a knot as my thoughts stray. The palace. Maxon and Kriss. Going back to the palace. Trying to focus on the essentials I need to bring, I attempt to make a list while struggling to control my frazzled nerves.

Connor is still speaking, unaware of my internal battle.

"I'll pick you up at 7:30 am on Wednesday, Lady America. I will see you then. Goodbye."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

He ends the call with a final thank you.

* * *

Leaving in 2 days? I needed to have my visit with Kenna's doctor. Taking my phone, I read the 2 messages Kenna left for me. Apparently, she had already set up the appointment for today at 3:00. It was only noon, so I had 3 hours to kill before the visit. Deciding to pack for the trip, I head over to my closet in search of acceptable clothing to bring to Italy. Two hours later, my suitcases were stuffed with my belongings. I hurry into the bathroom to shower and refresh myself before heading out. Slipping on a white maxi dress with blue floral prints scattered on it, I complete my outfit off with a thin gold belt around my waist.

Heading out to my car, I turn on the ignition as my car purrs to life. The garage doors pull open,revealing a mob of paparazzi, flashing lights, and screams of never-ending questions. Trying not to run anyone over, I pull out slowly of the driveway, even though all I wanted was to run the reporters over! Following Kenna's directions, I came to a stop at a simple 2-story house after a maze of twists and turns. I knock hesitantly on the door, and after a moment, the door creaks open. A small girl, no more than 6 years old stares back at me.

"Lady America?" the girl gasps. "Mommy, someone's here."

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and a familiar voice saying, "Kylie, what did I tell you about opening doors?"

Kylie looks down, clearly ashamed. "That I shouldn't open doors without you saying it's okay."

It's my turn to be shocked as I see Georgia walk into view. "Georgia?" I couldn't believe it, she had a daughter?

"America?" she whispers, "What are you doing here?"

"My sister told me to come to this address, but I guess I might've gone to the wrong house." I turn to leave, embarrassed, nervous and scared. I have never been so grateful for my long red hair, it covers my flaming cheeks, and my tear-streaked face. Georgia probably knows my secret. I can't believe that Georgia lives so close to me. What will she think of me?

"Wait!" Georgia calls out after me, "Did she book you under the name Mer at 3:00?"

"I think," I reply. "Wait... What?!" I splutter, "You're the doctor? How does Kenna even know you?"

"America, let's go in, and then I'll tell you," she says as she grasps my arm and leads me in. Locking and closing the door, we head into the living room to find Kylie watching TV.

"Mommy?" Kylie's head swivels around to face us.

"Yes, darling?"

"Is that Lady America?" she points her finger at the screen.

I follow her gaze to the huge TV mounted on the wall. The screen shows a slideshow of pictures of Connor and I from our date last night. Reporters and journalists alike shared their opinions on our outing. I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry. I knew Maxon would see these images. A single tear fell down my face as I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth. Part of me is happy that Maxon will think that he doesn't have a hold on my heart anymore, but I know he always will. I can just imagine his thoughts running through his head. Me, jumping from one royal to the other. Maxon will be furious. I don't even know why I'm crying, maybe it's just the combination of hormones and the pictures.

"I'm going to be my office, Kylie," Georgia's voice overshadows the sea of noise from the TV. She leads me to her study. It isn't very big. I take in the warm cozy feeling her office emits, and the chaotic, but controlled look it has from half opened cabinets, spreadsheets covered desks, and a wall of drawings-clearly made by Kylie. A cup of coffee sits on a desk, probably half-full, from this morning, and behind the desk, a huge bookshelf stretched the length of the wall. Every shelf lined to the brim with books. I allow myself a small laugh, remembering that Georgia's fascination with books caused my trip up a tree. She and has me sit in a leather rolling chair while she takes her place in her chair behind the desk.

"You must have some questions."

I nod. Georgia smiles and leans back in her chair, "Let me me explain my side from the beginning." She starts. "Kenna is a Northern Rebel." The words – Kenna and Northern Rebel- jolt me out of my trance.

"What?! Kenna's a Northern Rebel like Dad?" I was dumbstruck. She was always the peacemaker and never complained about the castes. "How?"

"As you know, your father was a Northern Rebel, and August and I are the heads of the Northern Rebels. Your father was the leader of the rebels in North Carolina. After he died, he had originally wanted you to take over, but you were Selected. Kenna, being the oldest of Shalom's children received the responsibility. At first, no one thought that she would be able to lead, but after your father's death, her heart built a wall around it. Kenna became a powerful, strict, but fair leader."

Georgia pauses to take a breath before continuing. In that short amount of time, I realize the effects of the Selection have not only changed me. Maybe if I hadn't applied, everything would be so much easier. I could be married to Aspen, my dad might still be here, and Kenna wouldn't have the added stress of leading a huge group of people.

"She aspired to continue your father's legacy the way he would have wanted it. Had this power been given to someone else, you may have a batch of Southern Rebels instead of Northerners right now.

"And you? How did you become a doctor?" I ask.

"My mother was a midwife, so I was exposed to this at a young age. From ages 10 to 15, I assisted my mother in her duties as a midwife. When I was fifteen, I was recommended to a medical school where I studied for 8 years and graduated at the top of my class." Georgia explains.

"And Kylie?" I question.

"I was 15 when I met August. He was visiting a friend on campus when I ran into him. It was decidedly awkward, for my roommate was his friend. My nerves were all over the place when his friend thought that it would be a good idea to set up a date for August and I. Thankfully, we hit off and our relationship progressed quickly. We were married when I was 17, and had Kylie a year later. August and I decided to keep Kylie a secret because of our positions in the Northern Rebel Organization. We didn't want any harm to come to Kylie in case someone tries to retaliate against us."

Shining the spotlight back at me, she asks, "Now what about you? How did you get pregnant?"

I end up spilling everything, from Maxon, to Aspen, to Prince Connor. Once I started talking I couldn't stop, but it was such a relief to tell someone.

"Maxon's such an idiot," I hear Georgia mumble under her breath. Turning and facing me, she says, "You do know that we wanted you to win, right?" Even though you weren't a rebel, I feel felt like you could've made a bigger impact on the Caste System than Kriss, who was a rebel." She inhales deeply as if she'd just unloaded a huge burden off her shoulders. Suddenly, changing the topic, Georgia offers me a hand. "Anyway, let's go down and give you a proper medical exam."

She walks over to the office doors, and says, "Kylie, I'm going down to the lab; wait here until daddy get back."

Her statement prompted an excited squeal and a pattering of footsteps running towards the study.

"Mommy! Wait! I want to go too!" shrieks Kylie, who had reached the office.

"Kylie, you can't go into the lab," Georgia reminds her daughter, after lowering herself to Kylie's height.

"Why, mommy?" Kylie crosses her arms and starts to pout. "Can I show Lady America where the elevator is?" she compromises with a pleading smile.

"Ok," Georgia breathes a sigh of relief, happy to have avoided a tantrum.

Kylie happily grasps my hand and leads me over to the fireplace, and places her hands on certain bricks. The fireplace starts to rotate, revealing a sleek, silver elevator with closed doors.

"Kylie, stay in my office until daddy gets back," Georgia leads Kylie to a table and sets up a coloring station for her.

Georgia walks back and places her hand on the door, and it slides open after scanning her hand. Stepping in, the doors close and I suddenly start to feel faint. My breaths turn into wheezes and my legs collapse.

"America?" was the last thing I hear before I blackout.


End file.
